Shadow of a Bruise
by FallenAngel218
Summary: Tim finds himself in a tight spot when an undercover op goes south. Can he get himself out of trouble? Will the team find him?


_**Summary: **__Tim finds himself in a tight spot when an undercover op goes south. Can he get himself out of trouble? Will the team find him? _

_**Notes: **__One-shot for the "how could I be lost" challenge. Also a hangman prize for Sazzita, who requested a Tim fic. Hope you enjoy! _

"How could I be lost?" Tim mumbled to himself as his eyes scanned the code in front of him. Every time he thought he was in, the program took him somewhere else. He was lost in the program, and it was beginning to frustrate him. The gun pressing harder into the side of his head told him that he wasn't the only one feeling that way.

"What's taking you so long, Fed?"

"I'm sorry, I'm working as fast as I can, Brandt. Your buyer has his information pretty well encrypted," Tim spat in frustration. Brandt grabbed him by the shirt and pushed the tip of the gun into Tim's cheek.

"If I hear one more excuse, I'll shoot you in the face. You still have 10 minutes left. If I don't have results, you won't live long enough to be found. Understand."

"Yes."

"Good. Get back to work."

Tim's fingers flew over the keys. The op had been going so well, up until about two hours ago. He'd been undercover as a hacker, to bring down a meth operation run by Lance Cpl Jason Brandt. Tim had only been in for 24 hours when a meet with a potential buyer went terribly wrong. The buyer had recognized Tim as a fed, and Brandt promised the buyer he'd deal with Tim personally. He'd been beaten to hell before they realized that he could be useful. He found himself in front of a laptop with a gun to his head not long after the beating, being told to hack into the buyer's accounts, or be killed. Apparently Brandt was greedier than he let on.

Tim got caught in the same loop six more times. For some reason, this bank had extra secure encryptions on its server. It was booting him out before he had a chance to see anything. He hoped to God that Tony and Gibbs had been listening when he'd been made. He was sure he'd be killed the second he accessed the server.

It was another five minutes before he finally found a back door into the bank's database. Right away he noticed that the buyer had far less money than he had let on to Brandt. He grinned inwardly.

"I'm in," he announced loudly.

"What did you find?" Brandt asked.

"Your buyer lied to you, Brandt. He doesn't have nearly as much as he said he did."

"What!"

Tim suddenly felt himself being dragged out of the chair by rough hands, and pulled to his feet. Brandt replaced him in front of the computer.

"That pompous asshole! He played me!" He slammed the computer shut and immediately rounded on Tim.

"This is your fault, Fed!" He threw a punch to Tim's face. "If we hadn't been stupid enough to bring you along, he may have gone for it! You ruined me!"

"You ruined yourself, Brandt," Tim said, spitting blood. Brandt punched him again. Tim started to cough up more blood.

_Where the hell are you, Gibbs? _

"No one can save you now, Fed."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Tim raised his head, and was more than relieved to see Gibbs standing in the doorway, gun pointed at Brandt.

"Drop the gun, Brandt."

The other two men let Tim go, and he fell to the floor in a heap. They pulled out weapons and pointed them at Gibbs. Brandt pointed his gun at Tim's head.

"You're outnumbered three to one, Agent. You may as well let your Agent die. You'll never get him out of here alive."

Gibbs kept his weapon trained on Brandt. Tim lay beat up and broken on the floor, bordering unconsciousness. He and Tony had heard him being made when they met the buyer, and had rushed to the scene, only to find everyone already gone. It had taken them longer than they wanted to get a location on Tim's tracking device from Abby. Seeing Tim beat up as he was made Gibbs' gut churn with guilt. For the moment, he pushed all that aside and focused on the dirtbag in front of him.

"You have a choice, Agent. Drop your gun, or you will both die in this room."

"Don't do it Boss—" Tim was silenced by Brandt's foot making contact with his head. He yelped in pain, his hand moving to his head.

Gibbs knew he was outnumbered. Tony was undoubtedly lost somewhere in the high-rise apartment building. Hoping Tony had his ears on, he slowly raised his hands in defeat, letting his weapon slip out of his hand. It hit the floor with a thud.

"Good choice, Brandt said. He motioned to his two partners. "Put him in that chair." They moved toward Gibbs, guns still pointed at him. As one of them laid a hand on Gibbs' arm to grab him, the other suddenly went down in a heap. Gibbs took the opportunity to disarm the other, and shoved him up against the wall.

"Don't move."

"What the hell took you so long, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as Ziva and two other agents ran past them into the room and surrounded Brandt.

"I heard you in the earwig and radioed Ziva to get backup—"

Gibbs listened to Tony ramble on as he pushed into the room to get to McGee. Tim was lying on the floor, groaning in pain.

"Hey Tim," he said gently as he kneeled next to his fallen agent. He looked up at Tony. "Get an ambulance." Tony nodded and ran off to make the call.

"Boss…I…screwed up…"

"It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known who his buyer was going to be."

"My face hurts," Tim said shakily.

"You'll feel better soon. Ambulance is on the way."

"No hospital," Tim said, trying to sit up on his own. He was immediately hit with a wave of nausea, and fell back to the floor. He put his head back down on the hardwood floor and closed his eyes, to fend off the nausea.

"You're going. End of discussion."

"Yes, Boss."

"Tim… you did good."

"Thanks, Boss."

**END**


End file.
